Shi Meng was trembling from head to toe, especially when his palms touched the burning skin.
He couldn't understand why this person could still persist and cling to him so persistently, even though he had clearly expressed his resistance and said some harsh things and did some excessive things to prove his stance.
Did he find out?
The idea had barely surfaced when Shi Meng suppressed it.
No, impossible. He couldn't possibly know. He didn't even come in.
The pounding heartbeat was temporarily calmed. Shi Meng lowered her eyes and bit her lip, using the tip of her tongue to lick away the taste that did not belong to her, but unexpectedly, the taste of rust filled her mouth.
His bite was so forceful that it split Fu Xuanliao's lip. Bright red blood trickled down his lip, which Fu Xuanliao wiped away with the back of his hand. His other hand still gripped Shi Meng's wrist tightly, his tall figure looming over him, as if he wouldn't let him go until he heard a reply.
As the final card was revealed, his heart pounded wildly, filled with a mixture of anticipation and fear, like a sinner awaiting judgment.
But Shi Meng said, "You don't need to do that."
"No need to do those things."
You don't have to go crazy.
"You did nothing wrong, so you don't need to ask for forgiveness."
I shouldn't have vented my hatred on you in the first place.
Fu Xuanliao's heart sank: "Then you, no longer..."
As soon as he spoke, he realized he couldn't make that assumption, as it would essentially give the other party a way to break the deadlock.
Sure enough, Shi Meng followed his words and filled in the blanks for him: "Yes, I don't love you anymore, and I don't hate you either."
Fu Xuanliao suddenly froze.
He never expected that Shi Meng, who had never spoken of love, would first say that she didn't love him.
No more love, no more hate; everything has become an emptiness more ephemeral than the passing clouds.
When she looked up, the bewilderment and confusion in her eyes had faded, replaced by a more rational calm.
"I should also apologize to you for what I did in the past."
I'm sorry for bothering you like a madman.
"No, you didn't..."
Seeing Fu Xuanliao's eagerness to refute, Shi Meng changed his habit of being reluctant to speak and took the initiative back into his own hands.
“I made no promise to give you anything,” he finally answered the question, “and I don’t want anything from you.”
A seemingly imminent crisis was averted.
Perhaps because of the blow, Fu Xuanliao stopped pressing him in the following days, but he also did not leave in anger. Occasionally, when Meng went out to buy daily necessities or go to the hospital for a follow-up visit, you could still catch a glimpse of him when you turned around unintentionally.
The silence was so profound that even Pan Jiawei was uneasy. Once, he asked Shi Meng, "That guy... the one who does special jobs, has he gone back to work?"
Shi Meng then realized that the two of them had exchanged information about their backgrounds and origins.
Unable to answer, Shi Meng said, "I don't know."
"Sigh." Pan Jiawei sighed, "Seeing how vigorous he was, I thought he could hold on for a while longer."
His words implied a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect, even though just two days ago he had been cursing and swearing about Fu Xuanliao, saying he was not a normal person, and yet he had spoken up for him.
After a while, Shi Meng asked, "Did he tell you that?"
It refers to one's profession.
Pan Jiawei thought for a moment and said, "I don't think so. It was just my guess. He didn't refute it. Didn't you say before that you and him used to have... that kind of relationship?"
"Hmm." Shi Meng looked down at his palm.
People often use the phrase "in name only" to describe a contractual relationship that is superficially harmonious but lacks substance. His relationship with Fu Xuanliao was also a contract, but it was in reality without any formal agreement.
However, it was originally a shameful entanglement that started with sex trafficking, so it can be defined however you like.
After my birthday, the year is almost over.
Through these days of rehabilitation, Shi Meng's right hand has recovered to the point where he can use chopsticks normally.
Previously, because it was inconvenient, Jiang Xue bought him a pair of training chopsticks for children. The two chopsticks were connected together, and fingers could be inserted into them. The tops were decorated with small animal dolls.
Shi Meng didn't feel ashamed at all. After using it for a long time, he can now easily pick up peanuts with these chopsticks.
That day, he tried to transfer a whole plate of freshly roasted peanuts from one plate to another in less than five minutes, and his hand joints were only slightly sore. He quickly sat down at his easel and, for the first time in a long time, sketched a picture with his right hand. The model was the plate of peanuts.
After finishing the painting, he took a picture and sent it to Jiang Xue and Teacher Ma. Jiang Xue exclaimed that they would start preparing for his comeback exhibition tomorrow. Teacher Ma was also very pleased and said, "At this rate of recovery, he might be able to make it to the finals."
Shi Meng's portrait, drawn with his left hand, had already passed the preliminary selection with a high score. However, he was not so optimistic as to believe that his left-hand drawing skills were already superb and that his success in winning the judges' favor was mostly due to the appropriate subject matter.
Thinking of the subject of that painting, Shi Meng hesitated for a moment, but ultimately followed his heart. He carefully rolled up and folded the painting, which represented his recovery, and placed it in a box lined with bubble wrap. He then mailed it to the address where people often sent him things.
The response was faster than I imagined; Shi Meng received a reply on the third day after it was sent.
In her letter, Li Bihan wrote: "From childhood to adulthood, you have always been a strong and decisive child. No matter what others say, you can always stick to what you love. While I am happy for you, I also feel ashamed for the more than twenty years I have spent living aimlessly. If I had made up my mind earlier, I wouldn't be here now, running around and busy with material things, which is really just asking for trouble."
As the number of letters increased, Li Bihan's tone became more and more familiar. At first, she was a little reserved, but now she seemed to regard Shi Meng as an old friend she had known for many years. She would talk about anything, from heartfelt things to everyday matters.
When she described the divorce case as self-inflicted trouble, Shi Meng smiled knowingly, acknowledging that her efforts to maintain her marriage with Shi Huaiyi were largely for the sake of their child.
I'm leaving this marriage now for the sake of my child.
She possessed all the characteristics of a mother described in elementary school extracurricular reading materials: a beauty and gentleness that remained fresh and new despite the passage of time, so gentle that Shi Meng's heart softened. She stared at the string of numbers left at the end of the letter for a long time before finally picking up her phone and tapping the plus sign on the WeChat interface.
The other party verified my identity in less than three minutes. Just as I was hovering my fingers over the keyboard, hesitating about how to greet them, the other party sent me a photo first.
It's a peanut sketch that was just sent over, framed in a nice wooden frame and hung on a blank wall.
Immediately after, Li Bihan sent a text message: "My biggest regret is not being able to watch you grow up. Fortunately, it's not too late to start now. I've prepared a room for you, and from now on, all your practice works will be hung in it. Don't rush to improve; you can take it slowly. Mom will always be with you."
A few days later, under Pan Jiawei's guidance, Shi Meng learned how to make video calls. He wanted to call Jiang Xue to try it out, but Jiang Xue was busy with work and didn't reply. He then opened his chat with Li Bihan on a whim and asked her if she was free.
The video started playing quickly, and before Shi Meng was ready, his hand slipped and he pressed the answer button.
The scene appears, and today Li Bihan is dressed smartly, sitting in a car in the background, on her way somewhere.
Even so, she was still in high spirits, and when she saw Shi Meng's face appear on the screen, a smile appeared in her eyes and brows.
Shi Meng wore the down jacket she bought for her today, with a hood, looking like a college student who had just entered the workforce.
She's just too thin. I wonder where all the food I sent went. Li Bihan said with concern, "I'll be able to get things sorted out here in a few more days. Then I'll have time to make you different soups every day."
Shi Meng was still not used to receiving unconditional care, nor was he used to being so close to Li Bihan.
"No need," he said, looking away. "I can take care of myself."
Through their interactions over this period, Li Bihan knew that this was his nature, so she was not in a hurry to repair their relationship to a normal mother-son state. Instead, she chatted with him about daily life through video calls, just like writing letters.
When asked about the shares that originally belonged to Shi Meng, which had been recovered and would be transferred to Shi Meng's name along with Li Bihan's shares, including some Shi family assets that were still under negotiation but were already a done deal, Shi Meng shook his head and said, "I don't need those things, you don't need to do this..."
You don't need to go to so much trouble for me.
As if she had heard something unsaid, Li Bihan was taken aback for a moment, then smiled.
"Whether you want it or not, what belongs to you will be yours, and you will not lose anything."
Looking at Shi Meng on the small screen, she rarely showed the stubborn side of a mother who loves her child: "Perhaps I can only reconcile with the past when everything returns to its original state."
After being reminded, Shi Meng asked himself countless times whether he had truly let go, whether he was truly consistent inside and out, and whether he had reconciled with the past.
The answer is I don't know.
He hid in a sturdy shell, and no matter how people outside knocked on the door to tell him that the sky had cleared, he still dared not go out easily unless he felt safe enough before peeking out to look around.
He feared that once he experienced the sunlight, he would never want to return to the cold, damp place.
Tragedy is often caused by stubbornness and greed. He would rather die in despair than be slowly swallowed up by the years and live back to his former repulsive self.
Therefore, he desperately denies the past and his memories in order to prevent the tragedy from repeating itself.
Even though reality often goes against his wishes and unexpected situations occur.
Winter came earlier than usual this year. With only half of December gone, the temperature in Xuncheng dropped to negative values.
Although there was underfloor heating in the house, Li Bihan was still worried that Shi Meng would catch a cold, so she took the time to buy two new down comforters and sent them over, so that Shi Meng could put one upstairs and one downstairs, so that when he was tired of painting and too lazy to go upstairs, he could just lie down on the sofa.
When I bought it, I specifically asked, "Are you living alone now?"
Shi Meng agreed, and Li Bihan didn't ask any further questions. Looking back, Shi Meng realized that Li Bihan was probably asking if he was in a relationship.
Shi Meng didn't have that plan for the time being, but the thought that the person hadn't left yet made her uneasy.
Pan Jiawei asked Shi Meng to go to an art exhibition over the weekend, and he agreed.
Even though Pan Jiawei said it was normal for ordinary friends to have a meal and go to an exhibition together, and told him not to feel guilty, Shi Meng still felt a strange sense of guilt. On Saturday, he went to the supermarket to buy some snacks, choosing puffed foods and carbonated drinks that young people like.
I ran into a deliveryman on my way back with my things; the quilt that was sent from Fengcheng was on this train.
Li Bihan had instructed beforehand that the quilt had been aired out and was quite fluffy, but Shi Meng hadn't expected it to fluff up to such a huge size.
The deliveryman, in a hurry, still left the package at the door and left. The box, which was almost half a person tall, wasn't heavy, but it was difficult to carry. Shi Meng slung the shopping bag over her arm, picked up the box, and lost sight of the road ahead. She staggered into the yard, tripped over a brick that was still covering the flower bed, and her body immediately tilted to one side.
He didn't fall down; he was caught by another pair of hands that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
A deep voice reached my ears through the box: "Let go, I'll do it."
Then, his hand suddenly felt light, and the box was lifted up in mid-air. When Shi Meng came to his senses, he only saw a tall and straight figure.
This time, he entered the house openly and stood in the center of the living room. Fu Xuanliao asked, "Should I take it upstairs?"
Shi Meng, holding the key, exclaimed "Ah!" without hearing clearly. Fu Xuanliao then understood and carried the box towards the stairs.
He could roughly guess that it contained bedding, but he didn't expect it to be two such sturdy beds. Shi Meng opened the box and was a little stunned when the tightly packed blankets bounced in his face. He first took one out and put it on the bed in the bedroom, and then he didn't know what to do with the rest.
Fu Xuanliao guessed, "Should we take these back downstairs?"
Shi Meng turned her back to him, turned the spread-out quilt over and then back over, without saying a word, as if waiting for him to leave on his own.
Fu Xuanliao deliberately delayed, asking, "Did Aunt Li send it?"
Shi Meng still did not answer.
But then Aunt Pan opened the window of the neighbor across the street and called out, "We made rice cakes at home, little one, come over and take some home to eat!"
Shi Meng responded with a straight back, his expression cold as he faced Fu Xuanliao, as if the words "drive away the guest" were written all over his face.
"Can I use the restroom for a moment?" Fu Xuanliao held up his dusty hands. "I'll leave as soon as I'm done washing."
Shi Meng rushed out the door, glanced at his hands which were covered in dust from carrying packages, but didn't say anything, turned around and went downstairs.
That meant he agreed. Fu Xuanliao went straight to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, and it took him a full five minutes to wash his hands. He almost memorized the ingredient list on the back of the hand sanitizer. Shi Meng still hadn't returned.
In truth, he didn't know what else he could say to Shi Meng.
It was as if he were facing a solid fortress, impenetrable by cannonballs, and all his attacks were ineffective. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't budge it an inch.
After that day, Fu Xuanliao was quite distraught for a while, because Shi Meng not only no longer loved him, but also no longer hated him. Shi Meng said it himself, so he had no choice but to believe it.
In addition, the painting he had spent several sleepless nights drawing was burned without batting an eye when Shi blindfolded him; even the toughest heart would ache.
After his last trump card proved ineffective, Fu Xuanliao even considered taking the contract and forcibly demanding the enforcement of its terms. He had five more years to go; if five wasn't enough, he could extend it for another five. He figured he could eventually outlast Shi Meng and force him to back down.
But while he was fearless enough to do such crazy things, Shi Meng might not be able to handle it.
His little mushroom had suffered a great calamity, and its newly pieced-together body was not yet strong enough to break at the slightest touch. At this moment, it needed both a strong dose of medicine and proper, gentle care.
"I might as well leave for a while," Fu Xuanliao thought. "There's no point in staying here anyway; it just invites disdain from others."
Remembering the story he had overheard about Pan Jiawei inviting Shi Meng to an art exhibition the next day, Fu Xuanliao gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to run next door, drag that kid out, and beat him up.
He doesn't want to compete fairly because he should have won from the start.
He wasn't afraid of being ridiculed for winning unfairly, even if he could rely on a sliver of lingering affection, even if Shi Meng still had a little bit of affection for him...
Before he could even feel annoyed, Fu Xuanliao stepped on something soft and squishy.
A sharp meow was heard, and before anyone could react, a white, ball-shaped object darted out from under the bed, bumped into the bedside table, and then hurriedly slipped between Fu Xuanliao's legs, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
It turned out to be that cat.
After understanding the situation, Fu Xuanliao breathed a sigh of relief and put down the quilt in his hand, still shaken. His gaze happened to fall on a small box placed next to the bedside table.
It was a cardboard box, about the size of his palm. It had been sitting nicely in the corner, but the cat, which had just fled in panic, knocked it over, and the lid fell off to the side.
Fu Xuanliao squatted down and looked down at the blue cardboard box on the ground. He had no intention of peeping, but the box was too light, and the contents inside were not heavy either; the cat bumped into it and it scattered all over the floor.
Thinking of helping Shi Meng tidy up, Fu Xuanliao reached out and picked up the somewhat worn cardboard box. Just as he was getting familiar with the faded texture on it, his eyes were drawn to what was placed at the bottom of the box.
A thin piece of coated paper, printed with a Ferris wheel image, comes from an amusement park in Fengcheng.
Below is an identical admission ticket, even with the same date: November 21st of last year, Shi Meng's birthday. Fu Xuanliao still remembers that it rained that day.
Below that were several notes, two of which were from the kind of notepad he kept at home. One read, "I'm going to work," and the other read, "Call me if you need anything."
The last two slips of paper have fresher handwriting and contain two nonchalant remarks: one saying he'd peel chestnuts for him to eat, and the other telling him to close the window and watch out for the "pervert" next door.
Fu Xuanliao couldn't possibly fail to recognize his own handwriting.
At the very bottom was a folded A5 sheet of paper. Fu Xuanliao only remembered that he was so sleepy at the time that he could barely keep his eyes open, and he was extremely perfunctory in the face of Shi Meng's request, hastily drawing a mushroom and handing it back.
He himself didn't know what the drawing would look like, yet Shi Meng preserved it to this day.
And what lay scattered on the ground, having some weight, were not anything of value—a sapphire bracelet, a dead rose stem, and two dried chestnut shells.
These were all of Shi Meng's treasures, wiped clean and stored in a corner unknown to anyone. If it hadn't been for the accident just now, they might never have seen the light of day again, only to be secretly taken out and held in Shi Meng's arms in the dead of night.
For a moment, Fu Xuanliao couldn't even breathe. A sour and numb feeling welled up in his heart, a shock that hit him like a ton of bricks and almost overwhelmed him.
He trembled all over, as if his five senses had failed him, so much so that he didn't even hear the footsteps going upstairs.
It wasn't until Shi Meng pushed open the door, saw the person squatting by the bed, and then looked at what he was holding that Fu Xuanliao slowly turned his head and met those suddenly wide-open eyes.
There was panic, helplessness, and intense emotions that came too suddenly to be concealed.
In contrast, Fu Xuanliao's heart felt empty at this moment, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out, so empty that he could only think about two things.
It turns out that what he gave Shi Meng was only so light and so little.
It turns out that everything Shi Meng gave him was insincere; what he secretly concealed was a deep and never-extinguished love.
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